Chapter Twelve

Cole

 

“Dean’s running late,” sighed Seth.

“Dean always runs late,” I reminded him.

It was the eve of Christmas Eve, and we were making signs for our big 25th of December Jimmymas Extravaganza — even though Jimmy himself had barely spoken to me for a week. To say I was confused would be an understatement. 

“Do you know if Jimmy’s coming?” Seth asked. “We could really use an extra hand.”

“Isn’t Maya coming around?”

“I have no idea when Maya will finish work.”

“I’m not sure if Jimmy’s coming,” I said, trying to keep my voice emotionless. I had invited him, but he hadn’t gotten back to me.

A few days ago, he’d sent me a brief message to explain that he was busy at work, but MerryMart had been busy all month, and he’d managed to make time for me before. I didn’t know what had changed. That evasiveness, combined with his tight, one-word answers to my texts — when he bothered to answer at all — rendered me confused.

Maybe it was for the best. I had been planning to talk to him about the logistics of handling a new relationship and new friendships, but the more I thought about having that conversation, the more my stomach swelled with anxiety. Still, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d unintentionally betrayed him. He’d had so much fun last Tuesday night — why had he gone so cold afterward?

Excuse me, but running away was my move.

His unexpected coldness had my holiday spirit dampened.

A knock on Agenda’s door jerked me out of my melancholy and stopped my potentially-emotional conversation with Seth in its tracks.

Dean rapped his bare knuckles on the door. I practically ran across the room to let him in. It was sleeting outside. He wasn’t dressed for it at all.

He stumbled in gratefully, breathing into his palms to warm them up. He wasn’t wearing his coat either, just a heavy, woolen sweater. At first glance, it looked like a Christmas sweater, but when you looked closer, you realized that, in fact, it did not say Santa is Coming, but rather Satan. Jimmy would have loved it.

Damn it, did everything have to make me think of him? It didn’t help that all my recent memories of our relationship were focussed on the holiday season — buying decorations from him, sitting on his lap, making snowmen, and watching his eyes dance with firelight.

There were decorations everywhere in Portland. There were Santas on every corner, and we got a little snow every other day. I compulsively stared at every Santa I saw to make sure it wasn’t Jimmy, and I was practically attached to my phone. As far as I knew, we were still together, but he wasn’t acting like it.

“You look freezing,” I said to Dean. “Where the hell are your gloves and your coat?”

Dean’s face soured. “There was a homeless kid in threadbare clothes a couple of blocks away.” He shook his head and exhaled a deep, angry breath.

That was Dean. Eager to give away the clothes on his back to make the world a slightly better place. When I first met him, I’d thought he was a saint. The more I got to know him, the more I realized that if he was a saint, he was the angriest damn saint I’d ever met.

Seth emerged from behind the counter where he had been fiddling with the dishwasher. “Did you bring your paints and stencils?” he asked.

Dean held up an old, half-falling apart suitcase. “Yeah. All the stuff I use for protests.” He scruffed a hand through his hair, playing it cool. “Is Topher here?”

“Sorry,” said Seth. “He has to work late tonight.”

“Oh.” Dean’s expression only darkened for a moment. “Okay. Who’s coming over, then?”

“Me, Cole, you, Maya, and maybe Jimmy.”

“Maybe,” I repeated darkly. Seth shot me a concerned look.

“No Zane?” asked Dean.

Seth laughed. “If we let Zane paint our signs, they might look like masterpieces, but they wouldn’t get done until Valentine’s Day. He’s at home, relaxing before the big event starts.”

From tomorrow afternoon until the end of Christmas Day, Agenda would be our refuge, a safe place to spend the holidays. I was excited and grateful to be a part of it.

“So what’s up with you and Jimmy?” asked Dean.

Seth pursed his lips. 

“Not much. Jimmy’s avoiding me. He says it’s work, but…”

“He works at a Christmas store.” Dean shrugged. “Work’s probably hell. I can’t blame him for keeping to himself. I wouldn’t worry, Cole.”

I nodded so that the conversation wouldn’t linger on Jimmy, but I didn’t believe Dean’s comforting words. Sure, work probably was hell right now, but Jimmy should have been talking to me about it. I should have been there to comfort him. I wanted to be the shoulder he cried on.

I clapped my hands together and changed the subject. “So what’s the plan here?”

Seth and Zane were keeping Agenda open through Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day. Tomorrow afternoon was our deadline for getting these signs done. We’d be plastering them in the window so everyone knew they were welcome.

It would be a family event for people without families and for people who wanted to extend their families to include those who needed extra support.

Now that Dean and his supplies were here, it was a lot easier to do what we needed to do. It was just me, Dean, and Seth spraying paint and slopping it on paper. I took a vaguely punk-rock approach to my poster advertising Jimmymas, true to the spirit of the birthday boy. I hoped he’d appreciate it.

“Have you heard from Jimmy about if he’s coming tonight yet?” asked Dean.

I made an incomprehensible noise from the back of my throat instead of answering. I’d been checking my phone every few moments, but aside from a couple of invites to New Year’s Eve parties, and an email from my parents, I had no notifications.

“What’s going on with you two?” said Seth. “Things were going so well the other night-”

I shrugged.

“There’s no shame in talking about your feelings,” said Dean.

“I know that. I just don’t want to talk about my feelings.”

“But-”

“Drop it,” said Seth. “Cole will talk when he’s ready.”

Dean huffed and gave me a severe look, but he did as Seth said and dropped it.

Silence was rarely awkward at Agenda, but this was one of those moments where it hung in the air like an overblown balloon, on the brink of popping.

“I’m pretty sure I ruined everything,” I said. “Again.”

Seth raised one of his auburn eyebrows. “How did you do that?”

I scraped my hands down my face. “I don’t know. I told him I had to talk to him about something, and he freaked out.”

“Dude. You told him we need to talk, and you’re wondering why he’s avoiding you?” said Dean.

“I just meant we needed to talk! Not that we needed to break up.”

“Yeah, but Jimmy-” Seth sighed. “You know Jimmy’s sad a lot, right?”

“He has his reasons.”

“After his upbringing, I don’t think he expects happiness. I imagine that every time his parents needed to talk to him, that meant he was getting in trouble.”

I nodded along, feeling uneasy. He was probably right. Seth didn't know Jimmy as well as I did, but he did have more experience with relationships and communication. No wonder Jimmy freaked out.

“What did you want to talk to him about?” asked Seth.

“Just stuff.”

Maya chose then to breeze through the front door. “It is cold out there, guys.”

“Tell me about it,” said Dean.

“What’s up?” Maya lowered herself into the seat next to me. “How’s the painting going?”

“Maya-” I started, but it was too late, she was already squealing and standing up after having sat directly on the palette of paint sitting next to me.

“Oh man,” she said, craning her neck backward. “What color is my butt?”

“White and green,” Seth told her.

“It looks like a Rorschach test,” I chimed in.

“I see a butterfly playing drums,” said Dean. “What do you think that means?”

I laughed. “That means you have a wonderful imagination.”

“Okay, everyone can stop staring at my butt now,” said Maya goodnaturedly. “Do you have a rag or something, Seth?”

I was glad for Maya’s accident. The heat was off me for a bit.

“There are rags behind the counter,” said Seth. “You can go clean off in the bathroom if you want.”

“That was the plan.” Maya grinned. “Oh, and Cole?”

“Yeah?”

“When I get back, I want to know why you’re so miserable.”

I groaned. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve got Maya on your case now,” said Seth, as Maya vanished into the bathroom.

“You’re done for,” added Dean.

I was. I added some glitter to my poster while I waited for Maya, and by the time she got back, I was sparklier than the Christmas tree. And after having been here for a few weeks, the Christmas tree was pretty sparkly. We’d encouraged customers to bring in decorations. Handmade ornaments and inside jokes weighed down the branches and made it lilt to the side: a true family collaboration. A rainbow flag perched on top of the tree instead of an angel or a star. 

“You look beautiful, Cole,” Maya said, gesturing to my face, which was streaked with silver and gold.

“Thanks,” I said. “How’s your butt?”

“Wet.” She scowled and moved the palette before sitting next to me this time. “But not quite so colorful anymore, which is nice. So tell me. What’s up with you? Is it boy drama?”

“I suppose.”

“What happened?” She was so blunt and to-the-point.

“I think I scared him off.” I explained how I had told him we needed to talk about something serious, and how he’d run away, scared.

“What were you going to talk about?”

“Well. Um. Actually. It was nothing.”

“That sounds like something to me,” said Dean.

I sighed. “Shouldn’t we be talking about something more festive?”

“How can we be festive when you look like a cat who got locked outside in the rain?” said Maya. Dean and Seth both chuckled.

“Okay,” I confessed. If I wasn’t able to talk to Jimmy, maybe I should get this off my chest to my friends. “I was going to talk about you guys. I was going to tell him that if he wanted to focus on making friends, and not being with me, that was okay.”

Maya furrowed her brow. “I’m confused. Why can’t he have both?”

I sighed. It was hard to explain. “It’s kind of- You guys are awesome, right?”

“I’m not going to disagree,” said Dean.

“We’re not perfect, Cole,” said Seth. “You don’t need to put us on a pedestal.”

“I know,” I said sharply. “But you’re better than anything Jimmy has ever had.”

Dean nodded. “I know. I get it.”

“Jimmy needs friends,” I said. “He needs family. Isn’t that more important than being with me? No matter how much I want to be with him?”

“Stop being noble,” said Dean.

“Me? You just gave away your gloves and coat to a stranger. Isn’t that more ridiculously noble?”

“That’s different.” Dean rolled his eyes. “That kid was in trouble. Jimmy’s not in trouble.”

“Jimmy has it harder than I do.” There was no way the others could argue with that. It was a fact. “If we fall out, he’s the one who’ll get hurt.”

“I’m a fucking black woman in the United States right now,” said Maya. She cut her eyes into narrow slits. “I have it harder than you. Are you going to stop hanging out with me in case you screw me over?”

“That’s completely different. I’m not dating you. You have friends.”

“There are other ways you can screw people over,” said Maya. “How come you’re fine having friends who are more vulnerable than you, but you’re getting weird about dating someone with issues?”

“When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound great,” I confessed. “But I want to date him. I don’t care about his issues. I just want him to know he doesn’t have to date me if it would make things worse. I’m trying to do the right thing. I want to look out for him.”

“And you think the best way to look out for him is to put doubt in his mind about his new friendships?” said Dean. There was a note of hurt in his voice. “Do you honestly think we’re the sort of people who would ditch a friend for breaking up with another friend? Because we’re not. I like Jimmy, and he needs friends. I want to be his friend. It’s got very little to do with you, Cole.”

“We’ve had friends who’ve broken up before,” said Seth.

“Cole and Jimmy haven’t even broken up!” said Maya. “This whole thing is a non-issue.”

“He's not confident enough to think of you guys as his friends. He'll just think you're my friends. Anyway, we might have broken up.” I shrugged. “Jimmy’s barely talking to me.”

“Are you talking to him?” said Maya.

“Yes!” I protested.

“Have you invited him over today?”

“I mentioned we were making posters.”

“Did you tell him you wanted him to come over?”

“I-” I looked at the text. We’re making posters for Jimmymas tonight at Agenda. You’re welcome to come over if you want. “Not exactly. But I implied it heavily.”

“What have you been saying to him?”

I read over my messages. Okay, maybe if Jimmy was truly anxious about me breaking up with him, I might not have been as careful as I could have been.

Me: Jimmy, I really want to talk to you.

Me: Are you okay?

Jimmy: Busy at work.

Me: Can we catch up at lunch?

Jimmy: Too busy.

Me: Another day? Xo

Jimmy: Sure.

And then neither of us had messaged the other until today when I told him he could come around to Agenda if he wanted to. I supposed I hadn’t been as reassuring as I could have been. I had to remember that Jimmy wasn’t like me. He got scared easy, he was prone to pessimism. And I'd let him down before, without explanation. If I still had this chance with him, I would try to be more empathetic.

“Cole?” Seth prompted.

I scrolled back a few messages further in our chat, to just over a week ago, when we had been chatting about everything from music to politics to school and coffee. The most recent proper exchange of messages between Jimmy and me was a heartfelt conversation about our fears and plans for the future. I had talked about how much I hated doing this stupid English degree. He had reassured me and talked about how he had no idea what he was going to do once his Santa gig was over. By the end of that conversation, I’d been feeling a lot better, and I thought he was too.

I hadn’t meant to ruin this. Not again.

“Invite him over properly,” urged Seth.

I started typing out the message but only got halfway through. I backspaced everything. “I can’t keep annoying him.”

The others exchanged a glance.

Maya sighed at last. “Okay. I’ll message him and tell him I want him to come over. But if he shows up, promise you’ll talk to him for real. Sort this out. You two make each other happy. Stop being so scared of that.”

“I’ve wanted to talk to him this whole time. He doesn’t want to talk to me. I messed up.”

“You didn’t mess up. You scared him.” She pulled out her phone and tapped rapidly on the screen. “I’m messaging him now.”

“What would we do without you?” Seth said fondly.

“You’d all be lost without me,” said Maya. She looked up from her phone and glared at me. “Lucky for Cole, nothing pisses me off more than a perfectly fine relationship going to shit because the two parties involved won’t talk to each other, and I refuse to let it happen on my watch.”

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry. When Jimmy gets here, just quit acting like the emotionally stunted lead in a romcom.”

“I’ll try.”